He told the seventeen-year-olds – meanwhile wondering if any of them were still virgin – that a man feels at his best when he has the attention of a well-groomed, attractive young woman. And it is the duty of any airline to help its passengers feel at their best. Why, Wanderlust Airlines had in its files letters from grateful wheelers and dealers who said something like: "Your delightful hostess made me feel so relaxed that I was able to put over a big deal that no one else in my office could handle."

Wanderlust knew how much of its success depended upon its corps of hostesses. Young women who, to put it simply, never doubted the eternal truth that male and female created he them.

He went on to make it sort-of clear that once any young woman had been well coached in the art of creating an aura of sex around Wanderlust's male passengers, she would see those same male businessman passengers again and again. They would ask for her. They would give her valuable investment tips.

The truth was that those men returned to fly Wanderlust merely to enjoy having their aging cocks stand at throbbing attention for most of a flight. But they did hand out tips on stock. Anything to keep the girls talking so they could make a date.

"Of course we know that many a hostess marries a millionaire, but I'm not making any promises," Hank would say. Pause. "Any questions?"

Salaries, fringe benefits, free travel, yes indeed and so forth. Hank also remembered to say, now and then, standing there in his uniform, broad shouldered and flat-bellied, "MY hostesses." The gals liked this.

"So, when you graduate high school, thanks to the excellent teaching of dedicated people such as Miss Fidditch, here, phone our eight-hundred number you will find in your phone directory and setup an interview. Perhaps I will meet you aboard one of our new 797-Xs, the world's largest planes. I know I will say, 'Glad to have you aboard.'"